Maybe there is no wrong choice, just a choice. Maybe I can choose, and choose again. Maybe I can refrain from blaming myself, because my life is short, and I want to be happy.
Remember - Those who feel they are worthy of love, feel loved.
Why is it that even if fiction can exist where humans control every aspect of their body and psyche, unexpected things keep happening?
There is no dead-end to choice, to knowledge. A dead-end appears when you choose to have one, when you have decided on it, when you know it.
I die when I decide I've had enough of life. My senses control my reality. I don't see myself growing old - I used to see myself in the future that I set out to build, but I don't see it anymore. Is it gone?
Was it a possible future that is no more? How could I know? Is it a dead end?
Persistence can only mean - I will always be there, present, doing a thing, not that the thing I'm doing will always be the same. What other type of persistence can I expect myself to hold?
Nothing human endures. Humans are not relentless - forces or nature are. I am not a force of nature, I can't be the waves that hit the shore without regard to consequence, or time. That is humanity - humanity is impermanent and fragile, and constantly changing, in such a way that makes the future impossible to know...and if we did, we would be bound to it, a dead-end.
Everything will be, or has already happened.
**Disclaimer: This post is not a cry for help or even depression. I'm depressed when I feel the inevitability of life and do not acknowledge it - this, right here, is the choice to live life and acknowledge how complicated my mind can be.